The arena was buzzing with excitement as the audience flooded the seats. Three Blazers stood in the stadium floor, two talking privately as the third looked on.

"Now, you're gonna win this, right?" Stella Vermillion asked, fixing the collar on her fiancé.

"Yes, of course I am." Ikki Kurogane replied, clearly annoyed by her insistence.

"Because you need to win, or you can't advance."

"I know..."

"And if you don't advance, w-we can't have tha-" her sentence was cut short with her future husband leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the lips, the sudden contact turning her face as red as her hair.

Ikki let out a small chuckle, "you don't have to worry so much, Stella." He put a hand on her shoulder, something she squirmed a little about, "I've done so much, I'm not going to give it up now."

The crowd started to cheer ecstatically and Ikki looked to the commentator's box, which had people walking inside, based by the shadows on the glass.

"You should get to your seat, the battle's about to start." He gave her that smile; so easygoing; so careless, she instantly felt at ease. She returned the smile and separated from him, walking toward the entryway. Ikki couldn't resist but watch her as she walked away, how her skirt swayed along with her-

A mental slap came across his face. 'Don't lost focus now, Ikki.' He thought to himself, 'but still…'

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen!" A voice boomed over the speakers, "And welcome to the first match in the Seven Star Battle Festivaaaal!"

The crowd erupted, bringing Ikki back to his senses, and he turned to face his opponent, a man in an elegant black suit, leaning on a cane.

"I'm your commentator, Isao Katsumi, and here are the contestants!" Ikki looked up to the commentator's box, and saw that a lanky man wearing sunglasses and headphones was pointing down at him.

"In this corner, we have the F-rank knight that surprised everyone, the Uncrowned Sword King, Ikki Kurogane!" The crowd cheered again, but Ikki tuned them out, putting his focus on the upcoming battle with this man.

"And in this corner, a B-rank knight that travelled all the way from England to compete, the Gentleman Incarnate, Alistair Kirksworth!" The man heard his name, then proceeded to take a deep bow, coming back up with a smirk. Ikki could hear many girls calling out as his ash blonde hair fell across his face, him brushing it away brought many squeals from the audience.

"Five, four, three," An automated voice called, signalling the start of the match. Ikki took a deep breath and closed his eyes; The night before he watched a video of Alistair's previous battles, and he was a unique fighter to say the least.

"Let's go Ahead!" The voice called again, and Ikki opened his eyes, filled with determination and focus.

"Come to me, Intetsu." He said, putting his hands together in front of him, then placing them on his hips and drawing his blade.

The other man said nothing, shifting the cane from under one of his hands and under another, all the while keeping eye contact with Ikki, before flipping the cane from under him into the air.

"Rule number one of the Gentleman's Code," the cane changed form midair, turning into an epee and landing right into Alistair's outstretched hand, "never hit a man below the belt." His accent was posh, the standard for an upper-class from England, but it still held some form of authority in it. His poise was odd; most swordsmen that Ikki had faced held their blade in two hands, with their feet planted firmly on the ground. Alistair was different; his left hand was folded behind the small of his back, his right arm holding the epee out in front, the tip of the blade pointing at Ikki.

The two stood there for the longest time, the crowd slowly dying down in excitement, as both Blazers stood facing each other, not one making the first move. Ikki knew that someone had to hit first, but he knew both of them were defensive fighters; Alistair wouldn't dare strike first.

"So, Ikki," the other man called, breaking the silence between the two, "I hear you're quite the swordsman," he flicked his epee tauntingly at the Japanese man, causing the crowd to 'ooh' in response, "why don't you come show me? Or are you all bark and no bite?"

In a blink of an eye, Ikki launched forward and started to lay into the Brit, only to see all of his swipes and swings blocked by the Blazers swift sword and even swifter hand. Alistair always kept his feet together, only braking them apart when he moved backward, keeping Ikki in front of him at all time, even when he tried to slip to the side for a sneaky hit.

The amused expression on the Englishman's face only fuelled Ikki more, as the two locked blades and looked one another in the eye.

"I have to say," Alistair said, "you have excellent reflexes, for an F-rank."

"That's what happens when you train hard." Ikki said, speaking to the other Blazer for the first time, emphasising his words with pushing his blade harder into the other, only earning a smirk from the Alistair.

Meanwhile, Stella looked on from her front-row seat, worry plastered on her face. She was sure Ikki would've beaten this guy by now, but every strike he put forward was either blocked or parried. Alistair was defensive, no doubt, but even most Blazers would have struck out by now, or at least tried to.

A hand rested on her shoulder and she jumped a bit, easing up only when she saw that the hand belonged to Alice, a close friend at the academy.

"Don't worry so much, Stella," She said, her smile trying to be comforting, to little avail, "I'm sure Ikki's got this under control."

Just as the words left her mouth, the sound of metal striking metal rang out across the arena, as the fighting between the two began again. Though it was minute, and any other person would never spot it, both Stella and Alice could see how Ikki's movements became quicker and less thought out; almost as if he were acting out of anger than tactics.

Alistair's smirk has grown to a full smile as he continued to block Ikki's every attack, not even bothering to turn as the other Blazer tried flipping over him and swiping from behind. Ikki was impressed, no doubt, but overall his inability to strike any decent blows against the Blazer had left him frustrated and at a loss on how to defeat him; he could protect every part of his body, even-

Wait…

He had been attacking everywhere but his legs; Alistair could block his entire upper body with one arm, but in his research before he saw no-one go for his waist or lower, so Ikki thought that it was the one area he couldn't reach. He guided his blade to the Englishman's chest, then drew it back a split second before Alistair could parry it away, and went for a sweep at his" legs.

Before he felt any connection to the Blazer's body, Ikki's arms and legs locked up and went rigid. He looked up from his position to see Alistair glaring down at him, almost scowling.

He leaned in close and whispered, "You forgot rule number one." His words were cold and harsh; entirely unlike his voice beforehand. With a whip of his epee, Ikki launched back, still unable to control his limbs, until he was about ten feet away.

"Now, let's try this again, like a real man this time." It was only then that Ikki noticed that Alistair's sword was glowing a faint blue, and after he spoke, the blue faded and Ikki felt feeling in his limbs again.

Some kind of controlling ability, Ikki thought, unable to recall seeing that during his research. Maybe it's because I went against his rules?

Before he could dwell on that any longer, he launched himself back at Alistair, a new strategy in his mind. Instead of straight-up sending a flurry of strikes toward him, Ikki started slowing down the attacks, limiting himself to two or three every second. He also started adding more force to his blows; lowering his own stamina but forcing Alistair to start moving backward whenever he moved forward. With this newfound strategy, Ikki noticed something that seemed very odd.

Alistair's left hand never left his back.

Now that the two had entered into a somewhat methodical dance, moving around the arena with the screech of metal hitting metal rang out, he had time to analyse his opponent's movement patterns. Never once had Alistair moved his left hand from the small of his back; all movement from him seemed to come from either his right arm or his legs.

I wonder... Ikki thought.

As quick as a bullet, Ikki sidestepped around Alistair and, with a single tug, pulled his left arm from his back.

Alistair let out a cry of surprise as his balance shifted from the sudden movement, his eyes popping wide. He stumbled toward where Ikki had been, struggling to get his feet back under him. Ikki knew it was a dirty move, and would most certainly be scorned by some- if not most- of Alistair's fans, but he wanted to know what affect it would have against the opponent. After seeing the response, Ikki reckoned that the effect was a very good one. Alistair's breathing had become ragged and quick; his blocks were only keeping Ikki away instead of pushing him back; he even swung his first offensive blow, which was easily avoided by Ikki. Judging by the sweat starting to form on his brow, Ikki assumed that Alistair had been trained almost exclusively in his unique sword stance; the ridiculous sword swipes only added to his assumption. Alistair suddenly jumped backward, away from the fight, and took a deep breath before putting his arm behind his back again.

A smirk grew on his lips once more.

"You cheeky fucker," he muttered, only audible to those on the arena floor, "you figured out my trick, eh?"

"Not exactly," Ikki admitted, "but I had noticed your hand, so I wanted to know what would happen if I pulled it."

"Fair enough," Alistair looked him dead in the eye, "but, if fighting dirty is what you want," he put his right hand to his chest and, with one swift movement, ripped the suit off his body, leaving only a white undershirt, much to the joy of the audience, "then dirty fighting is what you'll get."

With a cry of determination, Alistair sprang forward and threw his tattered suit into Ikki, hitting him square in the face. The material blinded him for a second before he ripped it off his head, but it was a second too long, as Alistair had swung around and swiped the Blazer across the face with a swish of his epee.

The crowd were mesmerised as the battle changed in moments. The normally defensive Alistair was laying strike after strike into Ikki, who was forced to backpedal around the arena, blocking all that he could. However, no audience member were as transfixed as Stella and Alice, who were watching like hawks every movement the two Blazers made. Stella had grown more and more worried as the battle grew longer and longer, her hands gripping the side rail tighter and tighter. She could see the faint cuts along Ikki's face and arms where Alistair's blade had pierced, most of them bleeding. Even Alice's face, usually warm and cheerful, was cold and calculating, analysing how Alistair's use of the sword was much more deliberate; more powerful. It was almost as if he was cracking a whip against Ikki's skin, the way he held himself and his blade.

Meanwhile, Ikki's arms and face were ablaze with pain; Alistair's epee didn't do much in terms of power, but the wounds that it left stung, a lot. Ikki was forced to use his Irregular Guarding technique to block the quicker strikes, and was being led around the arena like a circus lion. Stepping onto one foot and springing sideways, he managed to get some distance between the two, but that only lasted a moment as he launched forward with a lunging stab that was easily blocked by Alistair and challenged with a lunge of his own, which was also blocked.

"Well, this has gone on longer than either of us expected, hasn't it?" Alistair shouted, all the arena hearing, "how about we finish this little bout, eh?" As the words left his mouth, he sped up his movements, getting dangerously close to Ikki, the F-rank raised his sword to block-

BANG

The crowd gasped as time slowed down for Ikki. He stared wide-eyed at Alistair's bemused expression, before looking down to his body. A small hole had opened up in his shirt, and blood was very quickly seeping through the fabric and dripping onto the arena floor.

Then he saw the flintlock pistol in Alistair's left hand and he made the connection; he'd just been shot.

Immediately after the realisation, the hole began to scream in pain, and Ikki had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. He tried to keep himself upright; tried to keep the fight going, but the pain was just too much and he fell to his knees in the middle of the arena.

Ikki Kurogane had lost a battle for the first time.

He fell face-first, hands clutching at the wound. His vision began to grow hazy as Alistair did a little jump on his feet and turned, walking toward the exit.

No… Ikki mentally screamed at himself, can't… End this early…

His teeth grit as he tried to pull himself up, only to cry out an fall again.

I can't lose now…

"Urgh…" His lips managed to spill out.

Not for me…

"Itta Shurrr…"

Not for the crowd…

"Itto Shire…"

Not for Stella.

"I-it..o… Shura."

A blinding light cascaded around Ikki's form, making Alistair turn his head, then his full body. Ikki' eyes exploded with colour; the pain from less than a minute ago a distant memory. Feeling his his legs and arms returned full force, and he pushed himself up almost instantly.

"So, I was able to bring it out after all…" Alistair mumbled, practically blinded by the light.

"Alistair Kirksworth!" Ikki called, pointing his blade toward the opponent, "our battle isn't over."

The crowd erupted into cheers, and the side of the Brit's mouth curled upwards.

"I'll admit, you certainly have the crowd on your side," He yelled, whipping his sword to the side, "but do you have the skill to match it?"

As Ikki's legs moved beneath him, his grip on time slowed to almost a standstill, allowing him time to think about his attack.

If I go head-on, he will instantly be able to block me, he thought, it's the same story with everywhere I hit him; it doesn't matter where, it's like he anticipates my movements and adjusts accordingly. The only time he was struggling was when I pulled his arm, but afterwards he was able to compose himself. What if…

Time sped up again for him, and this time a plan was formulated inside his head. He feigned a jab at Alistair, before leaping over him, letting a barrage of stabbing attacks rain down before he got to the other side. As he landed, he looked to Alistair, more importantly his arms.

With his Itto Shura active, Ikki could spot tiny cut marks along Alistair's wrists, ever so slowly bleeding.

So that's it, He thought, he's able to see me from above, that's why he was able to block me from behind without looking. And if he panicked when I tugged his hand…

For the first time, Ikki let a smile cross his face.

With a new feeling of determination, he launched upwards again, only this time making more deliberate strikes to his foe. He would parry Alistair's epee whenever it was raised, then give another little nick to his arms. This happened so quickly that to the untrained eye it was a show of brilliant light and metal clashing together.

The audience was roaring with applause, but none other than Stella, who had launched out of her seat and began calling out to Ikki, much to the embarrassment of Alice, who still sat in her seat, hand over her face and shaking her head slightly.

Ikki made another flip, twisting his body and delivering a hard blow to Alistair's arm, causing the man to retract it and hiss in pain. Ikki landed beside him, seeing the wound was a bit deeper than the others, bleeding more. Alistair then lashed out with his epee and Ikki could see the pain and frustration in his eyes. His face might have still been calm and confident, but those eyes told a different tale.

"You sure are quick on your feet," Alistair called, "especially with that light of yours," another slash; another block by Ikki, "but I doubt you're able to outrun this!" His left arm launched from his back and out came his pistol again, but this time Ikki was ready. As Alistair pulled the trigger, Ikki was already out of harms way; having stepped to the left and moving forward. Ikki was already at the gun as the bullet left its barrel, and with an upwards pull of his sword, the pistol sailed out of Alistair's hand and flew into the air, where it promptly disintegrated. Must be part of his device… Ikki thought.

Alistair stood entirely still, bewildered at what just happened. Ikki could see the emotions fly across his face; amazement, surprise, but most of all anger. His usually calm face contorted into rage and he could see how Alistair's chest had begun to steadily rise and fall.

"Not only did you dodge my bullet," he whispered, turning himself to Ikki, "but you had the audacity to whip it out of my hand like a fucking ice-cream cone." He began to walk forward, his sword hand gripping his epee so hard the knuckles were white, "you're gonna fucking pay for the embarrassment you've given me." His arm lanced toward Ikki, his blade tinged with blood.

Knowing that his Itto Shura would only hold up a few more seconds, Ikki parried the blade with such force that it was knocked from Alistair's hand, the metal clanging to the ground before fading like the pistol did. Using the momentum from the swing, Ikki followed the blade and spun, increasing its velocity until it reached Alistair. The very tip of the blade scraped across his chest; not enough to kill, but enough for it to look serious.

The crowd was completely stunned by the movement, even Alice stood from her seat to witness the spectacle.

Alistair felt both the pain and all eyes on him. Knowing that he had no way of winning, the Brit lowered himself on one knee, wincing at the pain in his chest.

"Your first folly was firing the bullet." Ikki stated, using English instead of Japanese.

"There you have it folks!" The commentator shouted, being practically silent the entire match, "our first winner of the Seven Star Battle Festival; the Uncrowned Sword King, Ikki Kurogane!" The crowd erupted into cheers and screams as the blue light around Ikki faded, the massive adrenaline rush it produced subsiding, and Ikki could feel every inch of his body that was in pain. Grimacing and gritting his teeth, he fell to his knees, and then onto his face, clutching the hole where he'd been shot.

"Uh-oh! Medical team, you are needed in arena Six!"

A/N: I haven't actually written FanFiction in a long time, so please tell me if I'm doing something wrong, or if someone seems OOC, I haven't watched the series in a few months either.